


Arrest and Development

by QueenSabriel



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, and a night vale level of gore, cecil is mostly not described except for a mention of his hair, cutesy nicknames happen, mild violence i guess, warning: librarian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 09:12:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6977146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenSabriel/pseuds/QueenSabriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a startling show of personal growth, Cecil volunteers to rescue his brother-in-law.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arrest and Development

"...and so, listeners, despite the 'official statement' by the Sheriff, I would say simply carrying a clove of garlic with you at lunch is protection enough, and that the food trucks really are _just that good,_ especially 'Plutonium', the one that’s on the corner outside the radio station...and furthermore-"  

Cecil stopped mid-sentence, interrupted by the sound of someone pounding on the glass of his recording booth. This was incredibly unprecedented behavior by anyone who wasn't Station Management. Even interns knew better. He was prepared to give the person a sharp glare - until he saw who it was. 

"Excuse me, listeners," he said, keeping his eyes on the figure outside. "My sister Abby is here and it looks like she needs to have a very urgent and possibly angry – oh she looks even angrier now, sorry Abby – word with me, so with that I'm going to take us, a little early, but better than late, to the weather..." 

Once the weather was going, Cecil removed his headphones and stepped out of the booth. "Abby? What's wrong? Is it Janice, is Janice alright?! Did something happen to her??" 

"Janice is fine," Abby said, jaw tense. "She's over at her friend's house. Cecil – where is Steve." 

Cecil gave his sister a long, eyebrow-raised stare. "...Why would I know where Steve is." 

"Because you know where _everyone_ is!" 

"Well, I don't actually," Cecil said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I just have a very good idea of - " 

"Cecil. Shut up." 

He scowled but did, actually, shut up. If anyone could make him shut up it was his sister, especially when she seemed this frazzled. And in his shutting up, Cecil had a moment to look Abby over and could see that she was in fact more than just a little upset. 

"I'm fairly certain he was arrested but I'm not sure," Abby said, running her fingers through her hair. "I can't do this again, Cec, I can't lose another person that I love. But I don't know for sure that he's missing. I also can't take Janice with me to City Hall to ask because who knows how dangerous that could end up being? And what if I end up getting killed, then where will she be? I mean I suppose she could always live with you and Carlos but that's not fair to anyone, I know you love her but – shit, Cecil what am I going to do?" 

Cecil made a placating gesture with both hands, then reached to take Abby's hand in his. "Was he doing something that you think would have gotten him arrested? I mean, other than everything that he's usually doing that would probably get him arrested." 

"This is why I don't talk to you about these sorts of things!" Abby said angrily. "Can you please stop being a smug asshole about my husband for _once_ in your life?" 

"Abby, I'm not -" Cecil stopped himself, let out a miffed sound, then asked calmly, "Was he doing something?" 

"Maybe, I'm not sure...." Abby looked at her brother with a pleading expression. "Cecil I don't know what to do." 

Cecil took a deep breath. He looked at his sister. He took in the fact that she looked on the verge of tears. He pondered the fact that she had just told him to his face that he acted like an asshole sometimes. He thought about the fact that he loved his sister and his niece very much, and that they loved Steve Carlsberg very much. He did not think about the fact that Steve drove him up the proverbial wall. 

"It'll be alright, Abby," he said softly, steeling and resolving himself. "I'll go to City Hall and find out where Steve is." 

*** 

"Awww, honey bear, I'm so proud of you," Carlos said, leaning over the table to put his hands on Cecil's arm. They were having dinner together at Big Rico's, though Cecil didn't appear to be enjoying it very much. Carlos squeezed his arm. "I know you don't like Steve a whole lot - " 

"I can't stand him." 

" - But I know this will mean a lot to Abby and Janice," Carlos continued. "And it shows that you are growing as a person, which is always important."  

Cecil proceeded to contradict that statement by putting his face down on the table and whining loudly. Several other patrons glanced over at the noise, but when they saw who it was just smiled affectionately and turned back to their pizza.  

Carlos used one hand to stroke Cecil's hair. "Pookie...?" 

"I can take risks," Cecil said, lifting his head and putting one hand dramatically to his chest. "I do it all the time. That is part of being a radio host. What is not part of being a radio host is taking risks for _Steve Carlsberg._ " 

"It is when he's married to your sister," Carlos said, then he added in a cautious tone, "And Abby does...love him." 

Cecil huffed indignantly. "Abby also loves pickles on her peanut butter sandwiches and wearing white after Halloween - and yes that is totally a rule look it up. Anyway, it's not that I don't think I can do it, I'm sure I can, but it's going to be _so much_ effort and I'm probably going to get hurt and be exhausted and then he's probably going to want to hug me assuming I can actually find him..." 

"Have you told him that you don't like being hugged?" Carlos asked. 

"No, because what's the point? He sees me hugging you and Abby and Janice and Old Woman Josie and the interns and Dana and Erika that one time when I thought they were Abby and he knows that I don't hate hugs," Cecil said. 

Carlos nodded sympathetically and rubbed his arm.  Then he leaned forward a little more so he could cup Cecil’s face in both hands and kiss him, slowly and carefully, tenderly and thoughtfully, not unlike the way he observed a delicate experiment. After a moment he drew back, just enough to focus on Cecil’s face. “I love you,” he said softly. “I know you can do this. And I know it will be a big thing if you do.” 

“I love you too,” Cecil said, the tension melting from his face for a moment. “I love you very, very much.” 

*** 

One thing Cecil did not love very, very much was waiting in lines. It was something he could not rustle up even an ounce of enthusiasm for, despite his propensity to be – as Carlos often pointed out – a little over enthusiastic about almost anything. To add insult to injury he was waiting in line because of his brother-in-law who, if he were here and not locked away in a cell somewhere (presumably), would be questioning everything aloud and constantly getting sent to the back of the line for anti-conspiratorial disturbances.  

The line winding into the Department of Inquiries inched forward. Some people were chatting with their neighbors or reading magazines or playing games on their phone. A few yards ahead of him Cecil could see Larry Leroy (currently not out on the edge of town) grilling ears of invisible corn on a visible electric grill. Larry Leroy’s neighbors in line seemed very pleased by this development as it seemed he was prepared to share. 

“Mr. Palmer?” said a voice behind him. “What are you here for?” 

Cecil turned. “Oh! Intern Mayuri, I didn’t realize you were behind me. I’m um…um…” He looked up at the ceiling and sighed before saying quickly, “I’m here to find out where Steve is.” 

Several people around them turned to look at the radio host in surprise. The whole town was aware of his feelings about Steve Carlsberg, whether or not they shared them. 

Mayuri looked surprised. “Steve…Carlsberg? Your brother-in-law?” 

“I don’t know any other Steves,” Cecil said, grumpily. “It’s not exactly a common name. What are you here for?” 

“My dad’s tablesaw disappeared from our basement,” Mayuri said. “He’s got back problems and can’t stand in line. We think it was recruited by the Sheriff’s Secret Police but Dad wants to make sure before we go to the trouble to buy a new one.” 

Cecil nodded. “Ah, I see. Well I hope you find the answers you’re looking for. You know the secret police tend to be…well, secretive.”  

They waited in line for some excessive amount of time. It was hard to tell exactly how long, what with time being funny always and spatial perception being a bit off in this part of City Hall. Eventually however it was Cecil’s turn to step up to the window, tinted so he could not see who was behind it (which honestly, was probably for the better.) 

“ _How may I help you_ ,” said a voice from behind the window. 

“Yes I’m trying to find the whereabouts of someone who was probably arrested,” Cecil said. “Steve Carlsberg.” 

There was a long pause. A very long pause. “… _your brother-in-law? Don’t you hate him?_ ” 

“I’m doing this for my sister, and my niece,” Cecil ground out. “And because I am an adult who is also a grown up and is not petty.” 

“ _I dunno, Cecil, you can be pretty petty sometimes._ ” 

“Can you just tell me where Steve is and what I have to do to get him out?” 

“ _No, that’s actually not something this department can disclose. But I can tell you to_ _fill out these papers_ –“ A large stack of papers was pushed through the slot at the bottom of the window, “ _And_ _take them to the warden_ _’s office_ _in the basement of City Hall._ _They’ll be able to answer your question._ NEXT!” 

Cecil took the paperwork and tucked it under his arm before he stalked out past the eternally long line still leading up to the window. 

*** 

Abby looked at the stack of paperwork. Then she looked at her brother. She and her brother were sitting on either side of her kitchen table, and the paperwork was sitting in the middle of the table. Her house was quiet, and even though it was usually quiet at this time of day during the week, with Janice at school and Steve usually at work, the quietness this time seemed more oppressive. Maybe that had to do with the fact that sirens had been going off all morning, and the sudden absence of them two minutes before Cecil arrived seemed almost jarring in comparison. Maybe it had something to do with the police officer disguised as an enormous hydrangea bush pressed against the window. More likely it had to do with the fact that she knew her husband was locked away somewhere and not, as he usually was, at work. 

She sat perfectly still, her hands around her coffee mug and watched Cecil start in on the paperwork, using a piece of burnt charcoal left over from their last barbeque to write. He was hunched over rather awkwardly as he wrote, reminding Abby of just how lanky a teenager he had been, though she noticed he seemed to have been putting on a little weight lately so Carlos must have been making sure he ate actual food…Cecil let out the tenth exasperated huff in the past three minutes, trying to blow a lock of hair away from his face. 

“Cec.” Abby clicked her tongue and stood. There was a jar of colorful hair ties on top of the refrigerator (no one in her house had hair long enough to need them, but they made such a nice accent piece and it was always good to have some around) and she selected a fuchsia one to match Cecil’s shirt. “Sit up. You’re a mess.” 

“I am not,” Cecil protested, but instinct won out and he sat up straight. Then, “ _Ow_. Don’t yank -  I am a grown man I can put my hair up myself, you know.” 

Abby pursed her lips and finished tying his hair into a messy bun. “You know, sometimes I wonder about both of those things. Carlos should learn how to help braid your hair.”   

“What did Steve do?” Cecil asked. 

“What?” Abby froze. She didn’t want to tell Cecil. She didn’t want to tell him for a number of reasons, mostly because lately she was starting to feel like her brother and husband were _finally_ starting to get along and had a sinking feeling that this would absolutely ruin that by validating every last one of Cecil’s ridiculous reasons for not liking Steve in the first place. 

Cecil tapped the paper in front of him. "This paperwork needs the reason – or presumed reason – for his arrest. I’m not going to judge, Abby, just tell me so I can finish this.” 

“I really wish I could believe you,” she said, walking back around the table to sit down. “But I would take this opportunity to cite all the times you absolutely judged Steve’s actions – but mostly the time when _you literally got him re-educated._ ” 

Her brother looked down and bit the inside of his cheek. “Are you ever going to let me live that - ” 

“No.” Abby said flatly. “That was one of your top five worst moments, and until I’m convinced that you _actually_ feel bad about it I’m not going to let you live it down.” 

“That’s not really fair,” Cecil said (whined). “Unless you suddenly decided to go back to school for telepathy I’m not sure you’re ever going to know that for sure.” 

“You know what isn’t fair, _Cecil_?” she hissed. “You really want to know what’s not fair? The fact that my little brother doesn’t seem to give one single shit about my happiness even though I gave up a whole lot to raise him and that I’ve gone to so much effort to include him in my life even though he’s doing his very best to drive away the one man that makes me happy and who has been so good to me. That’s what isn’t fair.” 

For once, Cecil looked rebuked. “I do care about your happiness, Abby,” he said quietly. “I love you, of course I want you to be happy. I just also want you to be safe. And in my defense I’m _trying_ to get along with Steve even though I disagree with him.” 

“I know,” Abby said, forcing herself to be the calm one. “You are getting…better, about it and I appreciate that but it still isn’t enough. Now I’m going to tell you but if you make any judgment about Steve for doing this I’m not talking to you for at least three months.” 

Cecil pantomimed sewing his lips shut.  

“He was trying to figure out what the City Council is.” 

“What?” Cecil looked perplexed, then hastily added, “I’m not judging! This is not me judging! I’m just…surprised and honestly curious what that means.” 

Abby shrugged. “He knows that they’re a council for the city, but he wants to know…more. And yes I tried to talk him out of it but he just gets so curious and fixated.” 

Cecil frowned. Abby knew he was biting back some kind of retort, but at least he did manage to hold it in for once. He bent over the papers again, and she went back to her seat.  

"Where do you have to take those?" 

"Basement of City Hall." 

Something cold ran down Abby's spine and she straightened. Making a face, she contorted a bit to reach her back and remove whatever the cold thing was from under her sweater and toss it in the general vicinity of the kitchen sink before looking at her brother again. "Cecil, that's very dangerous." 

"Well..." Cecil made a helpless gesture. "It is what I have to do if you want me to find out about Steve." 

Abby looked down, fighting internally for a moment. She couldn't even begin to think about losing both Steve and Cecil, even if it was just temporary. But she couldn't go with because then what would happen to Janice if all three of them were gone? Still looking down at the table she leaned over until she could put both hands on Cecil's arm. "Please don't disappear on me," she whispered. 

"I'll be careful," Cecil said, waving his hand. "I'll take Carlos with me. We'll be careful, and if all goes well I'll bring Steve home, all right?" 

"All right," Abby said, but she did not let go of his arm, which made finishing the paperwork a little difficult. 

*** 

Under a sky that was vaguely the color of rotting lemons, two figures approached City Hall. Cecil had the paperwork in a leather cross-body bag, and a determined look on his face. Carlos wore a black labcoat, which he insisted was less visible and thus more useful to them. Cecil was attempting to get his boyfriend to agree to not get distracted and to listen to whatever directions he gave, but Carlos waved one hand dismissively.  

"Babe, I know how to turn in paperwork to the basement of City Hall," Carlos insisted. "I had to do it about ten times when I first moved here because I kept filing things wrong." 

"I _know_ ," Cecil sighed. "I just don't want anything to happen to you." 

"It's City Hall," Carlos said. 

Cecil stopped and turned to put his hands on Carlos' face, cupping it tenderly. "Oh, my sweet summer scientist..." 

"Cec." Carlos rolled his eyes. "Cut it out. I know it's dangerous. I'm a scientist. I can handle it. Now let's go get Steve." 

The stairs leading to the basement of City Hall were at the end of a long hallway, well past the areas of the building that visitors usually filled. The two of them were quiet as they descended into the silent bowels of City Hall – despite his insistance at knowing what he was doing, Carlos definitely felt at least a little bit of un-scientific nervousness filling him. 

The basement halls were long, and silent. Fluorescent lights lined the ceilings, giving everything a dark, vaguely greenish glow; the white plaster walls, the dark woodwork, the grey linoleum floors that would have been more at home in a hospital than a government building.  

"Alright," Cecil said, turning to examine several signs held to the wall with old wads of chewing gum. "It says we need to go straight to get to the warden's office." 

They started walking. Carlos kept close to Cecil, holding onto his arm but still alert. They passed many doors with name tags on them, but none of the name tags were legible, and the windows in all the doors were dark. Still, every now and then they caught a  sound that was either distant voices muttering, or the buildings archaic heating system.  

That is, until they rounded a corner and heard something that definitely _wasn't_ either of those things. Cecil stopped and held up a hand to stop Carlos as well, though the scientist had already stopped when he heard the clicking of what sounded like long talons on the linoleum floor.  

"That's not right," Cecil murmured. "That's not right at all." 

Carlos looked at his boyfriend. "Cecil?" 

Cecil turned to the nearest door and gave the handle a jiggle, but it was clearly locked. "Carlos do you know how to pick locks?" 

"What?!" Carlos said. The clicking sound was getting louder, now accompanied by a low, gutteral breathing. Something was coming from around the far corner of the hall. "N-not really, I mean I know the basic -" 

_Bang!_  

Cecil had stepped back and kicked the door open, startling Carlos even worse. The partially broken door swung open to reveal not a closet or a office as either of them had expected, but another long, poorly lit hallway.  

"Phooey," Cecil sighed, but he started down the hall, tugging Carlos along after him.  

Carlos looked behind them down the hall just in time to see a large head with many shiny black eyes and a mouthful of sharp, hairy teeth (how could teeth be hairy? He found himself wondering) peer around the corner. It let out a roar when it spotted them, and Carlos immediately found his footing and sped along after Cecil. "What is that?! Don't tell me that's the warden!" 

"Don't be ridiculous!" Cecil panted. "That's not the-the warden that's a _librarian_ , but don't ask me what it's doing in City Hall... _crap_."  

A very solid brick wall blocked them from going any further. The sounds of the librarian were growing louder. Carlos looked around – there were no air vents above them, no doors around them, only piles of old wooden crates and various lengths of pipes. He found himself thinking that this had to be the most pointless hallway in Night Vale, possibly in the world. 

 A dark, drooling shape was making its way towards them down the hall.  

"Carlos," Cecil said, turning his back to the wall. He reached down to pick up one of the lengths of pipe. "If this doesn't go well..." 

"Babe," Carlos whispered. "I'm a scientist, and I also trust you, but _I don't see how this can end any way but terribly._ "  

"Then I clearly didn't tell you how good I was at soccer when I was younger," Cecil replied, before brandishing the metal pipe like a baseball bat.  

Carlos opened his mouth, then closed it. Probably being cornered by a vicious librarian was not the time or place to question the logic of Night Vale sports. 

The librarian stepped into the pool of light where they stood, it's lips curled, its eyes rolling. It crouched and sprang, and at that exact moment Cecil swung the pipe, which connected with the creature, making a sound like someone hitting a large pile of steaks with a broom handle. The pipe was now bent irreparably, and the librarian was preparing to pounce again. 

The Librarian made a sound like a shotgun being fired.  

It took both men – momentarily deafened and covered in a lot of viscous dark fluids – to realize that the Librarian hadn't made the shotgun sound, an actual shotgun had. An actual shotgun in the hands of a human standing several dozen yards down the hall. The human appeared to be a woman, tall and thickly built, wearing an outfit like a sheriff in an old western movie, sans cowboy hat.  

She walked towards them, stepping over the fallen body of the librarian. Her lips were moving, but following the loud sound of the gun, it took a few moments before they could even begin to hear her. 

"What are you two doing down here?" She asked. 

"Are you the warden?" Cecil asked, just a little louder than normal. He was still covered in gore, but he doubted that would go away until they were able to get home and shower.  

The woman nodded. "Sure am. Come on into my office." Motioning for them to follow, she turned and started back down the hall. "Sorry about the mess." 

"Why is there a librarian in the basement of City Hall?" Carlos said loudly.  

"They're getting in somehow," said the warden. "We keep hiring exterminators to try and find the hole they're coming through but they keep getting devoured. The exterminators, that is, not the librarians. It's very frustrating. I don't like having to carry a shotgun indoors. Still, that was impressive hitting, Mr. Palmer." 

Cecil gave her the thumbs up.  

They arrived at her office a minute later, which was surprisingly cozy. She put newspapers down on the couch before they sat so they wouldn't get librarian blood and...fluids on the cushions. Then she sat down across from them and asked what she could do for them. 

Carefully, Cecil removed the stack of paperwork from his bag. "My brother-in-law Steve Carlsberg was arrested, we think, and I need to get him out. Or bail him out. Or whatever needs to happen because my sister is very upset." 

The Warden produced a pair of glasses from somewhere and put them on before she began to thumb through the paperwork, making little hums as she did. Then she stood up and rolled up the entire stack before sticking it into a large cylindrical container, which she then put into a pneumatic tube. Brushing her hands off, she returned to the couch and sat down, smiling at Cecil and Carlos. They smiled back.  

And waited.  

And waited.  

The Warden did not move. In fact it looked like she had fallen asleep with her eyes open. A fly buzzed in from somewhere and landed on her cheek, and she did not so much as twitch. Cecil was examining his nails. When Carlos looked at him, Cecil put a hand on his leg and gave it a reassuring squeeze.  

"Cec," Carlos began. "How much - " 

"Won't be long now!" Interrupted the Warden. She was still smiling. She was still staring directly ahead, her gaze passing between Cecil and Carlos. 

Carlos shifted and grasped his boyfriend's hand. "Great. Great," he said, even though he wasn't sure what they were waiting for exactly. He did know that a primary part of visiting City Hall always involved waiting. He looked at Cecil, who was very much _not_ sitting perfectly still, instead fidgeting and looking around the cozy office.  

"Aha!" Abruptly the Warden got to her feet and returned to the pneumatic tube. She removed a cylinder and opened it. A swarm of gnats flew out. "The answer is yes, Mr. Palmer, you brother-in-law was taken into custody by two agents of the Sheriff's secret police." 

Cecil stood as well, tugging Carlos to his feet. "Great, when does he get out?" 

"Probably not often enough," the Warden said seriously. "Not that that's any fault of your sister's, trust me I know how time consuming running a family can be, but really they don't seem to get out enough do they?" 

"I wouldn't know," Cecil said. "Abby and I haven't gotten back to the discussing our romantic lives stage yet." 

The Warden laughed. "Really? That's funny coming from you. I'm pretty sure the only thing the town _doesn't_ know is how often you two have sex but it's pretty easy to guess." 

"Oooookay!" Carlos said, because Cecil looked like he was fully prepared to answer that question. "How do we get Steve out of _jail_ , specifically?" 

"Oh," the Warden nodded. "You just have to go over and post bail. But I'm not sure it would be worth it. They'll let him out when they're bored with him which will probably be soon. But if you really need him out _now_..." 

"What's his bail set at?" Cecil asked. 

Sighing and looking very heavily put-upon, the Warden picked up the cylinder and opened it again.  She turned it upside down and shook it. She held it to her ear, then tossed it over her shoulder. "Two goats and...a sack of kiwis. Sheriff Sam is craving kiwis." 

"Where are we supposed to get kiwis at this time of year?!" Cecil exclaimed, waving his arms.  

Carlos wrapped an arm around Cecil, trying to keep him from getting too worked up. But Cecil had a point; even when kiwis were in season, catching a whole sack of them at the Ralph's was no easy matter. And he was fairly certain that they were not in season. 

"You could also just pay $500," the Warden said with a shrug. "But I think Sheriff Sam will be grumpy." 

"See now that is much more reasonable," Cecil said. 

Carlos frowned. "Is it?" 

"We already bought our allocation of goats for the year, honey," Cecil said, rubbing his forehead. "I don't want to have to borrow any either. $500 is fine." 

"Okay," Carlos said. He peered at the Warden. "So um, this may be a stupid question – where is he? The abandoned mine shaft?" 

The Warden smiled. "Don't be silly! He's still in the holding cells here in City Hall.  That’s why I – the Warden – am also in City Hall. I wouldn't be able to ward much if I wasn't in the same building as the cells. Now will you be paying with cash or check?" 

*** 

One day, Night Vale would cease to surprise Carlos. Maybe. He wasn't sure if he actually wanted the strange little town to stop surprising him, because that would probably also be the day Cecil stopped surprising him, which would actually be a very sad day indeed. So it probably wouldn't happen. 

Either way, here they were, knee deep in something that resembled the sort of slurry that dog food was supposedly made of, Cecil holding a wad of cash aloft in one hand and a broken piece of wood in the other. He was also covered in more of the bloody, meaty slush and looking very unhappy.  

"I'm going to use Abby's shower!" He said. "I'm going to use her shower and her nice clean bath towels because this is very unfair." 

Carlos raised his eyebrows. "I told you we should have paid with a check." 

"Well I don't have my checkbook on me, _darling_ ," Cecil replied huffily, using the piece of wood as a crutch to push himself out of a particularly thick sinkhole. "So unless your science has some magic way of summoning one, I'll just -"  

"Cecil." Carlos frowned at him.  

Cecil sighed. "Sorry," he said quietly. "I'm being grumpy." 

"Yeah." But Carlos cracked a grin and held out his hand. "Come on, babe, the door is right over there and then we can get Steve and you can go shower." 

"I think we're _both_ going to need a shower," Cecil said, stepping closer, his tone low, gaze intent.  

Carlos felt his cheeks flush, but he laughed a little. "Cec, only you would try to sound sexy while covered in viscera."  

"Trust me, _t_ _his_ isn't viscera, I know viscera," Cecil said, looking down. "Probably it isn't. Maybe. I'm not actually sure. I'm going to pretend it isn't, but I'm starting to think they let one of the people from Desert Bluffs pick the décor down here." 

Carlos used his sleeve to wipe some of the grossness off of Cecil's face before kissing him. "Okay let's go." 

Shaking bits and flecks of things off of themselves, they made their way to the pair of large glass doors at the end of the hall. In  front of the doors lay a mat with the words "Please wipe your feet" embroidered on it in pleasant looking script. Cecil and Carlos did so, though they weren't sure it would help much. 

Inside, one of the Sheriff's Secret Police sat at a card table looking about as bored as a person in a tight leather balaclava could look. They had their chin resting in one hand, their other hand drumming on the table. When Cecil and Carlos entered however, they perked up immediately. "Oh! Hello! Welcome!"  

The table – which turned out to be another member of the Secret Police in disguise – waved as well before resuming their quadrupedal stillness. 

"Hi," Cecil said in a flat tone that indicated he was not in the mood for beating around the bush. He held out the stack of money. "Here is $500. You can tell the Sheriff I'm sorry but we just didn't have the energy to track down any kiwis. I'm here for my brother-in-law. Yes _that_ brother-in-law, I only have the one, yes it's Steve Carlsberg yes I'm aware that I normally hate him now can I just have him please?" 

The police officer stared at him for a moment, then held out their hand for the money. "Su-ure..." They said slowly. "Of course you may, Mr Palmer. Hello scientist Carlos. Did you two have a nice date last night? We had a shift change right after you two sat down to eat, I was kind of disappointed. You're very sweet together." 

"Thank you," Cecil said, sounding tired. "We did have a nice date. It was very romantic." 

"And between you and me," the officer added, "I think you should go with the light blue curtains. They're a lot more cheerful than the white ones." 

Cecil turned and looked at Carlos. " _See_?! I told you!"  

"Okay!" Carlos said, holding his hands up. "Okay we can get the light blue ones. I don't _actually_ care that much." 

"Right this way, gentleman," the officer said, leading the way down a short hall of mostly empty cells.  

Steve was in a cell at the very end, sitting on the little bed with his chin in his hands and looking more dejected than Carlos had ever seen him. Steve – as Carlos had begun to realize – was one of those eternally upbeat and optimistic people, sometimes to a fault. Now even Cecil looked disturbed at just how dour his brother-in-law appeared. 

As the secret police officer opened the door Steve looked up – at first wary, then surprised. Then he got to his feet. "Cecil?! Carlos?! What are you guys doing here?" 

Cecil, still covered in not only the gore from outside but also some drying librarian blood, looking exhausted beyond belief and frustrated, stepped into the cell. To Carlos' utter surprise, Cecil let out a a weary breath and said, "We're here to bring you home, Steve," without a single trace of judgemental anger or childish resentment.  

"But...what...how?" Steve asked. 

"We paid your bail and waited in line and fought a librarian and I would really just like to go use your shower because the water pressure is much better than mine," Cecil said, looking at a spot somewhere over Steve's left shoulder.  

Steve took a step closer. "You really did all that for me?" He said, and when Cecil didn't answer he looked to Carlos, who nodded. "Gosh," Steve said quietly. "Cecil this is the nicest thing you've ever done. Thank you." 

Cecil opened his mouth, then closed it again, then opened it once more to say, "You're welcome."  

Carlos stared at them. He thought vaguely that he should probably have taken a video of this otherwise Abby would never believe it was happening. Or maybe this meant that they would get along from now on, or maybe – He was even more surprised when Steve pulled Cecil into what appeared to be a bone-crushing hug and Cecil didn't protest. 

When Steve finally let him go, Cecil straightened his clothes and looked to Carlos, saying, "Well, shall we?" 

"Yeah," Carlos said, giving Steve a reassuring smile. "Let's go." 

*** 

Approximately an hour and forty-three minutes later, Cecil was stepping out of his sister's bathroom, fully cleaned and dressed in fresh clothing. Focusing on the buttons of his vest he was startled when he looked up and found Abby standing there, blocking his way down the hall. 

"Hey," Cecil said with a smile. 

Abby looked at him for a long moment before she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, resting her cheek against his hair. Cecil closed his eyes, returning the hug, his chin on her shoulder. For a few seconds Abby squeezed just a little too tightly then she whispered, "Thank you." 

Cecil nodded, still hugging her, eyes still closed. He waited until Abby let go to draw back, then he said, "Do you remember that thing Mom used to tell us? ' _If you don't have anything nice to say, then fill your mouth with spiders because you're probably a judgemental ass who needs to re-evaluate their life_ '?" 

"Of course," Abby said. 

"Well, I probably should have listened to that more," Cecil said. "And I am genuinely...sorry. Family is supposed to look out for each other, not...hurt each other. I'm going to be better about that. I promise." 

Abby smiled then, reaching out to pat her brother's cheeks as she made a face at him. "Okay. Thank you, Cecil. That does mean a lot. And it means even more that you went to all that trouble for Steve." 

"I _know_ ," Cecil groaned. "Gods. What's happening to me." 

"You're growing up, Cec," Abby said. "And it's about damn time." 

Cecil stuck his tongue out, then wrapped an arm around his sister, leaning against her as they went to join the others in the kitchen. 


End file.
